


Wake Up

by liminoid



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Identity Issues, M/M, Series Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 18:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liminoid/pseuds/liminoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tweaked kink meme prompt: Venom tests Ocelot's loyalty. (Spoilers for TPP ending)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The realisation started off slow. He'd catch spectres in the corner of his vision. Sometimes he'd see another face staring back at him from the mirror. More often than not, his voice felt wrong. After weeks of attributing this to battle fatigue and the unidentified chunk lodged in his forehead, he never could have imagined that the real answer lay in an unassuming cassette tape. It should have been an honour to be considered for this position - to take up the lofty title of Big Boss. Being such an integral part of his “greater plan” was something that each and every MSF soldier would fall over themselves for, but Venom hadn't _agreed_ to this. He was prepared to die for the man, that was for sure, he had no second thoughts when he'd thrown himself in front of Big Boss all those years ago. But this? It was almost worse than death. All he had left of his old life was his face. That was all he could remember, everything else had been erased, overwritten with the mistakes and downfalls of Big Boss. He traced his fingers over the tape's label – “From The Man Who Sold The World” – handwriting that was supposed to be his, but wasn't. Rage rushed through his body as he realised that there was no going back now, he really did have to follow this through to the end.

How dare he do this? Venom leapt to his feet and hurled the cassette at the wall, the film ribbons snapping apart as the flimsy plastic scattered into shards on the floor. What sort of god complex did someone have to have to do something like this? Gripping the sides of the sink to keep his balance, he checked the mirror above it once more. This time Big Boss was hovering behind him. He could feel his breath on his neck, hear his voice mumbling something unintelligible.

There was a sharp clang of metal on metal as Venom slammed his hands either side of the wall surrounding the mirror, leering at the phantasm.

“Get the fuck out of here!”

He'd called Venom a friend in earnest, said “You're your own man”. It was a laughable statement, but he knew Big Boss saw no problems with his words. In his eyes, he was simply telling the truth. A thought crossed Venom's mind - were Kaz and Ocelot in on this too? During his coma, the intricacies of their past working relationships had been imprinted into his mind, perhaps they too had undergone this sort of hypnosis? With Kaz he wasn't sure, but Ocelot's miraculous appearance at the hospital suggested so. That and the way Venom would catch his usually soft expression holding a hint of distrust around him every so often. The question was something he would have to find the answer to himself, though he did have a rough idea of how he could attain it.

* * *

“Boss?”

Ocelot's tilted his head to the side, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Venom had called him to a meeting in his office but since his arrival two minutes prior, he had just stood at the door, staring right through him.

“With all due respect, if you haven't got anything to say to me then I need to be on my way, I've got a lot of-”

Venom grabbed Ocelot's wrist. His face was suddenly much younger, less lines and grey; his voice was juvenile and it didn't have the silly southern drawl any more.

“Boss, what are you-”

Venom squeezed his good eye shut, pushing Big Boss' memory away. He shouldn't have this image. The Ocelot in front of him was forty years old, not twenty. Forty. Eye open again – the current Ocelot pointing his gun at Venom with his free hand, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Venom loosened his grip and he snapped his wrist away, returning the gun to its holster. 

“You sick or somethin'?” Ocelot forked his fingers through his hair.

“You've sworn your loyalty to me, right?” Venom answered with his own question.

“I-” Ocelot faltered, but quickly let out a strained laugh before speaking again, “of course. You know you have the privilege of being the only person in the world that I wouldn't betray,” he paused for a second, “John.”

“Good.”

A wide grin spread across Venom's face, one corner of his mouth pulled up ever so slightly higher than the other. Ocelot's actions confirmed his suspicions. The look in his eyes and the shakiness of his answer gave away his part - Ocelot's allegiance lay with Big Boss, not him, and he could see that somewhere in his brain, Ocelot knew something wasn't quite right here. But if he wasn't fully aware of the situation yet, there was still some fun to be had. Now he had a clear and readily available outlet for revenge. Venom proceeded forward, cornering Ocelot against the door with his hand resting on the frame. The next test was to find out just _how_ “loyal” Ocelot could be.

“But I can't take your word for it,” he leaned in close enough to whisper into Ocelot's ear, his voice low and sultry, “you'll have to prove it.”

Glued to the spot while Venom walked around his desk to sit at the chair, Ocelot's cheeks and nose were dappled with pink and his breathing was heavy.

“Dismissed.”

As Venom pretended to busy himself with arranging papers on his desk, he heard the slide and click of the door as Ocelot left the room without another word. He'd have to test Kaz next, but that could wait for tomorrow. The shrapnel in his head throbbed as if it were a living part of his body; he slumped over the desk, resting with his cheek pressed against his arm.

A voice that might have been his own spoke, _Is this really what you would have wanted?_

Venom let out a frustrated grunt through his nose.

_Is this you, or Big Boss?_


	2. Chapter 2

Too exhausted to retire to his own room, Venom endured a fitful sleep hunched over his desk, plagued by vivid images – all hospital gown-green and blood-red. Though there were no visible flowers in this office, he awoke to a familiar floral scent, as if he were in a meadow. He flipped up his eye-patch to rub his face. In spite of its less than stellar quality, his rest had at least subdued his fury somewhat. A quick glance at his watch through a bleary eye told him it was still early, just after five AM – awake in time to catch Kaz before he started whatever today's workload was for him. He retrieved the iDroid from his pocket, this time pressing a sequence of buttons in order to contact Kaz.

*

Gulls dotted an otherwise clear sky, the imminent sunrise tinting the horizon with burnt orange. A few staff members he recognised from the medical team were milling about on the adjacent deck. Eventually, Kaz emerged from the sliding doors where Venom awaited him.

“Morning, Boss.” Kaz greeted him, propping his back up against the railings.

“Kaz.” Venom gave a little nod in response.

“What did you need to see me about?”

“Nothing too important. I-” he did a double take at the sight of Kaz's right arm, “I thought you weren't getting a prosthetic?”

“What?” Kaz gave a bewildered laugh.

“Your arm, it's,” he looked back to see only a sleeve, flapping gently in the wind, “Never mind.”

“You feeling OK, Snake? You know everyone here at Motherbase appreciates how dedicated you are, but you really should take breaks more often.”

“It's nothing, Kaz.”

“Uh, all right... So... what was it you wanted?”

“We're in this together, right? You and me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course we are. Don't tell me you're having doubts, Boss?” Kaz's tone was affronted, but his reply instant.

“No, it's not that. I just wanted to...” Venom tilted his head to look upwards, into the pale dawn sky, “I wanted to hear it from you.”

“You really do need a break, huh?”

Kaz's voice was reassuring, and Venom knew that if he could, Kaz would have a hand on his shoulder to further soothe him. He really didn't have a clue. How would Kaz react upon discovering he'd lost everything _again_? He hadn't thought about the precise details of his own revenge plan, but he suspected Kaz might become a useful ally in that respect. Satisfied with the results of his “test”, Venom made a vague sound of agreement. Unless something desperately important came up, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to stick around the plant for a few days at least. Besides, he still had unfinished business with Ocelot. Kaz wouldn't believe him if he revealed the truth now, and regrettably he'd destroyed the only real evidence he had. His only point of reference would be Ocelot, and somewhere in the back of his head he wondered - just how long would it take him to realise that he wasn't Big Boss?

* * *

Venom stepped into the interrogation room, regarding Ocelot's handiwork – an enemy he'd extracted from one of the Soviet camps in Afghanistan three days ago, tied to a chair with a black, fabric bag over his head. The scene in front of him sent a jolt of electricity through him, made his right eye sear with pain. 

“I've told you all I know! Now let me go, you sick bastard.” the man spoke in Russian and struggled against his bindings. Though Big Boss was fluent, Venom was not – another failing of the hypnosis.

“Well, you're not getting out of here with an attitude like that.” Ocelot replied, also in Russian, a sinister smirk across his face. It seemed he hadn't even noticed Venom's arrival. “I'm sure there's a lot more you can tell me, isn't there?”

“Fuck off.”

“I guess I'll have to use force this time.” Ocelot chuckled.

He turned to retrieve a selection of instruments he'd laid out, only to find Venom standing by the rickety wooden desk. Before he could voice his surprise, Venom pressed a finger to his own lips in a silent “shush”. He pushed the stop button on the tape recorder sitting on the desk and closed in on Ocelot, leaning so his whispers would be audible to him only.

“How far will you go to prove your loyalty, Ocelot?”

Ocelot inhaled sharply.

“What's going on?” the prisoner piped up.

Venom didn't know what had been said, nor did he afford Ocelot the time to give an answer, for he'd moved his face from his ear to Ocelot's lips – pushing his tongue in the other man's mouth, grabbing the back of his head, pulling on his hair.

He'd expected a struggle, to have to fight off an attack, to disarm him, but here Ocelot was, pushing back into the kiss and wrapping his arms around Venom in a way that could almost be described as tender. This reaction brought a whole new level to Venom's plan.

_This isn't you._ A familiar voice sounded from nowhere.

He broke off the kiss, stared Ocelot in the eyes. Venom could smell that floral scent once more. Ocelot's hair was cropped and his shirt was black.

Not this. Not again. 

_You're disgusting._

“I know.” Venom mumbled.

He let go of Ocelot and left him to finish off his interrogation.

* * *

“The Boss seems super stressed out right now,” Kaz spoke in between mouthfuls of curry and rice, “You noticed anything weird lately?”

Miller gracing him with his existence during his lunch break was the last thing Ocelot needed to add to his pile of growing stress. He swallowed thickly, left hand forming into a fist under the table. 

“Probably battle fatigue.”

“That's what I thought, but I think it might be more serious than that. You know earlier today he said something about me having a prosthesis? Plus, he asked me a weird question like he thought I might just up and leave.”

Ocelot hummed a non-committal noise, pushing chunks of white fish around his food tray with a fork. 

“Man, you're pretty beat too, aren't you? I can do this afternoon's interrogation on my own if you want.”

“No, you won't do it right.” Ocelot shook his head, “Wait a minute, why are you being like this?”

“What, I'm not allowed to be worried about my colleagues?”

“You aren't usually worried about me.”

“Well-” Kaz took his sunglasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look, I just want things to run smoothly, OK? It's kind of difficult to do in between all your bright ideas of bringing in literal assassins into our ranks, you know?”

Replacing his sunglasses and collecting his tray and cutlery, Miller rose to his feet slowly, his grip performing an impressive balancing act between them and his crutch, “He listens to you, Ocelot. Tell him to relax a little, all right? I'll see you at two o'clock.”

He was right, not just about Big Boss listening to him, but also about his strange behaviour recently. It felt as if there was a cog stuck in Ocelot's head that didn't fit in with the rest of the machinery, only he couldn't quite pinpoint where it was or what it was doing there. Breathing out an irritated sigh, he pawned off his food to the nearest member of staff in the mess hall and made his way back to his own office. Something wasn't right.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the photos blu-tacked to the inside of the helicopter had been bothering Venom since he'd listened to that tape. It had been about six months now; half a year of chipping away at Ocelot, trying to unearth his knowledge of the truth, with snail-paced progress. Taking his eye off the photograph, he watched Quiet fidget – jiggling her legs and shifting about on the seats – wishing he had her same perpetual energy. He'd suffered some nasty wounds on this mission – recovering a couple of his own men – meaning he'd have to stay back at Motherbase to have them treated properly. Venom peeled the picture off the wall, hand trembling as he unfolded the corner. He saw himself and suddenly remembered having that photo taken. Only he remembered it as the wrong person. Try as he might, he could not recall the experience from his own eyes – it was all shifted over. Flipping over the photo, “Good luck! - 'Vic' Boss” was scrawled onto the back. Hadn't he written his name? He let the picture fall to the floor. Quiet had stilled herself, concentrating on Venom with an inquisitive gaze.

“It's nothing.” Venom mumbled.

Stooping to retrieve the photo for herself, she raised an eyebrow – a look that said _I don't believe you_ – before turning away, resuming the tapping rhythm of her boots against the seat.

*

“What would you think if I told you I wasn't Big Boss?”

Taking her time to think of an answer, the medical staff member carried on dabbing an iodine-soaked cotton swab onto a particularly deep cut on Venom's arm.

“Stranger things have happened.” her accent was thick, but still understandable, “I have seen the parasites which can make a human disappear and reappear in an instant.”

“It wouldn't bother you?”

“It does not make a difference who you are, because I owe you my life.”

As she continued patching up his injuries in silence, he speculated on whether Kaz would have the same thought process.

* * *

Only Ocelot, it seemed, was able to bring out this sickening feeling in Venom. Of course his ( _whose?_ ) flashbacks had always been there since he'd awakened from his coma. He'd seen Paz, all in one piece, in a room on the medical platforms. Seen Kaz with his yellow scarf and limbs intact. But with Ocelot it was as if there was something else present. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn't know of his existence before the hypnotism. His plan long-since abandoned, he didn't even know what he was doing with Ocelot any more. There wasn't the raw, unbridled fury that had first fuelled his idea to both punish him and extract information in this way. At this point he was just fucking him with no rhyme or reason.

Ocelot's hands clutched at bed-sheets in a frenzy as he was thrust into hard and fast. One of the bandages on Venom's hand had unravelled at some point, but he didn't care - his palm was stifling the deep groans trying to escape from Ocelot's throat, blood from newly re-opened wounds trickling down his chin. Struggling to keep up his pace with only one hand to lean on, he let Ocelot's mouth go and braced himself on the mattress either side of his head.

With their new-found freedom, words tumbled from Ocelot's lips: “God, John, don't st-”

Venom raised his open hand to strike Ocelot, catching him on his temple.

“ _Don't_. Call me that.”

Neither of them had came yet, but he pulled out and knelt between Ocelot's legs. His features were contorted into a grimace, but growing more feminine amongst the sticky, glistening blood. They were in a field of flowers, the smell burning Venom's nostrils. White flowers slowly stained red and a scar slithered its way up Ocelot's abdomen.

“No...” Venom whispered. “ _No._ ”

His head began to thrum with a dull ache, countless pin-pricks of light clouding his vision like television static. Then, nothing.

* * *

Buzzing from the strip-light overhead mingled with the relentless ringing in Ocelot's ears. Underneath the blood-stained blanket, Big Boss' chest and stomach rose and fell in a steady tempo, illuminated in an artificial glow. With each time they'd slept together, the feeling of unease, that something wasn't quite right, had increased. Not just his erratic behaviour, but there was just something about his whole being that was amiss. Ocelot's eyes fell on the fragment in Snake's head. Could it be that it was simply the trauma from nine years ago that had upset Big Boss' personality?

Ocelot splashed water on his face to remove the red streaks that Snake had left on him. Maybe a walk would clear his mind.

*

At three in the morning, Motherbase was silent and still, save for a few of the security personnel. Spurs clinking onto the metal walkways, he meandered between decks, staring up into the night sky as he went. Humidity plastered his shirt to his back and he found himself wishing for the brisk chill of Russia. The variance in temperature between the months here was minuscule – all that really changed was the rainfall. Even his brief stints in America while working with the Patriots provided a more agreeable climate than this. He was by Snake's side, so why did he feel as if he didn't belong here? His thoughts were interrupted as he approached the medical decks, he could hear Quiet humming along to the radio – not a song he recognised. He wasn't quite sure what he would achieve with her as his audience, but he made his way down to her cell anyway. She lay prone on the bed, arms and legs dangling off the sides.

“Hi.” Ocelot crouched down at the front of the metal cage.

Quiet didn't look up, but she acknowledged his greeting with a little wave.

“You doin' all right?”

A thumbs up.

“That's good.” he gave up crouching, letting himself lean onto his backside and resting his elbows on his knees, “How do you find the missions? Boss treating you OK?”

Another thumbs up.

“Good.”

He didn't bother making any more small talk, if you could call it that.

Prompted by Ocelot's mentioning of Big Boss, Quiet bounced up without warning, rooting through the standard issue canvas bag she'd been provided with for her missions. Once she'd found what she was looking for, she bobbed down to Ocelot's level, and held it out to him through the bars. A photograph. Ocelot accepted it, studying the figures in the picture. Snake, Kaz, and a couple of MSF soldiers, it must have been taken some time before the XOF incident. His thoughts trailed off as he looked at the man on the far right.

_“You've sworn your loyalty to me, right?”_

_“Don't. Call me that.”_

_“Boss, we've got the results on Eli's genetic test... Both tests say there is 0% chance that the two of you are blood relatives.”_

The errant cog clicked back into place. But it was too early... He wasn't supposed to figure this out until a good few years down the line. Ocelot stumbled to his feet, shooting Quiet a thankful glance before legging it back to his quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

Ocelot was sat on the floor of his room, files and cassettes strewn about around him. It was two days after he had made the connection between the medic and Big Boss. He'd avoided both him and Miller, just in case, but it was getting more and more difficult to do so. Ignoring calls and knocks at the door with “not feeling well” as an alibi wouldn't work for much longer. Everything had fallen back into place: prompts to remind Snake of things he should know, black-outs and flashbacks, the way he'd treated him. It made sense now, the hypnotism clearly hadn't worked as intended – he guessed its early interruption was to blame. But what the hell was he supposed to do with this information? Countless plays of the “Doublethink” tape hadn't provided him with an answer. 

“Having fun down there?”

Ocelot tilted his head up, he had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Kaz letting himself in.

“Miller.” he stood up, readying himself for the worst.

“Not gonna beat around the bush here, Snake's told me some pretty... interesting things. About who he really is, or was, I guess.”

“I see.”

“So you did know, you were part of the plan too... What the fuck is wrong with you, Ocelot?” Kaz spat his name out.

“I was hypnotised as well, I only found out a couple of days ago.”

“And you didn't even have the courtesy to tell me?” his question had the tone of a statement.

Ocelot cast his eyes to the ground. For once in his life, he didn't know what he was expected to say. Every interaction he had with someone else was always calculated, always what they wanted to hear. Was there use in defending himself? He threw caution to the wind and decided to be frank with Kaz.

“I didn't have a choice, Zero backed me into a corner too, you know.” Ocelot shrugged his shoulders, “I did it to protect him.”

“The 'legendary soldier' can't do that on his own?” Kaz scoffed.

“He was in a coma, Miller.”

“That's not- Jesus Christ, Ocelot! Do you honestly not see that you're in the wrong here?”

Before he could retort, Ocelot heard a sliding noise, and Venom appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame in silence. Kaz's knuckles were white around his crutch.

“You're not even gonna say sorry?”

“What good would it do?”

Something inside Kaz snapped, his crutch fell to the ground with a clatter as he threw a punch towards Ocelot. Missing its intended target, his fist cracked against Ocelot's arms as he brought them up to guard his face, sending him stumbling backwards.

“Steady, Kaz.” Venom held his shoulders until he was stable enough to pick up his crutch. “You OK?”

“Oh yeah, just fine.” Kaz replied dryly, his eyes switching back to Ocelot, “Well, I hope it was all worth it. You can go back to the real Snake now.” 

“What about you, Kaz? You don't have any loose ends to tie with him?”

“He's as good as dead to me.” he turned to the door, “But I'm not done with you yet, Ocelot. If you ever had an ounce of respect for me, come talk with me before you go. There's more things I need to know.”

Kaz gave Ocelot one last glance – weariness and disappointment – before Venom placed a hand between his shoulders, guiding him out of the room. Once he'd gone, Venom turned to face Ocelot again. 

“So you finally figured it out, huh?”

“You listened to the other side of the tape?”

“N313. Yeah.”

“You're going through with it?”

“Don't have much of a choice looking like this,” he gestured to his face, “do I?”

“I suppose not.”

There was a tense silence – fists and jaws clenched – until Venom finally stepped forward, invading Ocelot's personal space.

“Do you know what it's like? Having someone force something on you?” 

Venom began snaking his hands around Ocelot's back, placed a knee in between his legs. He felt sick, but Ocelot didn't have the energy, or the self-restraint, to stop Venom.

“Nothing I have in my head is mine. It's all his.” Venom's breath was hot and uncomfortable on his face. 

“We're similar, you know.” Ocelot replied.

Cold, metal fingers coiled around Ocelot's throat. “We're nothing alike.”

“We both belong to Big Boss.” his voice rasped through the pressure.

“You _chose_ to be! I didn't want this.”

“I didn't choose it either, haven't you ever been in love?”

“I wouldn't know,” Venom snarled, “you took that away from me too.”

Ocelot let out an involuntary moan as Venom's grip around him tightened, free hand trailing down to rest over his crotch.

“Hard already?” Venom chuckled, ghosting his fingertips over Ocelot's erection. “I can't believe you'd just let me fuck you even after knowing I'm not him.” he pressed harder against Ocelot's cock, palming it through his trousers, “is it because you know he won't ever do it?”

The increasing friction laced Ocelot's gasps for air with guttural groans. What Venom had said was the truth, but that wasn't something Ocelot was prepared to say out loud. Pulling himself together, he countered with his own question.

“Then, why are you indulging me?”

“I'm not.” Venom whispered into his ear.

The stranglehold around his neck disappeared. An agonised yelp escaped Ocelot's mouth, and he doubled over as Venom's knee collided with his groin. He collapsed in a heap, nauseous pain spreading through his whole body.

“You're disgusting.”

_You're disgusting. _.__

Venom heard his own voice speak in tandem with the disembodied one, addressing both himself and Ocelot simultaneously.

Before passing out from the pain, Ocelot caught Venom ordering him to be gone by tomorrow.

* * *

  
_**1995**_  
_It was over. Fallen rubble and bricks pinned Venom into the floor, his limbs mangled and insides punctured. After the initial outrage over his fate, he'd come to accept what he was, and somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten himself. But here, surrounded by the ruins of Outer Heaven, he recalled everything. He said he'd take Solid Snake down with him. He'd failed. Another reminder of his status, never quite holding a candle to the real thing, not even to his clone. Bomber planes approached the crumbled fortress to make sure absolutely no traces would be left. Not many people get a chance at two deaths, but this time would be the last – with this death, he would finally be free. The deafening sound of the planes sent his mind back to the helicopter in 1974, where everything had been taken from him. An almighty explosion engulfed the whole building complex; Outer Heaven was destroyed, and with it, the phantom faded away at last._

_~_

_**2014**  
Ocelot had his back flat against the upper-most point of Metal Gear Arsenal. Every single muscle and bone in his body ached, but he was finally himself again. Explaining the situation meant he had to put more and more effort into breathing as Solid Snake leaned lower over him. He was so tired. Snake's face took him back to the moment he first laid eyes on John. All those years ago, the sole moment that would take hold of him for the rest of his life._

_A weak flick of his hands, “You're pretty good.”_

_There was an excruciating torrent of pain causing spasms that were outwith his control, and of all people, Kazuhira Miller's voice sounded in his head._

“I hope it was all worth it.”

_It was. A simple and final thought before he let himself succumb to the Foxdie virus: it was worth it._


End file.
